by Alice Raine
He was over forty? Well, even if this did go down as a nightmare first encounter with his aunt, at least I was finally getting a clue about his real age.
‘As embarrassing as having me run into a roomful of her and her friends wearing nothing but a flimsy sheet?’ I blurted, mortification sweeping me as I relived the memory of his aunt and her friends staring at me as I charged into the kitchen.
Oliver snickered and pushed off from the wall to stalk towards me. ‘Well, no, now you come to mention it, it wouldn’t have been as embarrassing as that,’ he replied with a deep chuckle, apparently loving my discomfort.
Rolling my eyes, I slumped forwards and rested my head onto his chest which was still shaking with his laughter. ‘So you’re over forty, huh?’ I murmured teasingly, and in response I saw Oliver grin and roll his eyes.
‘Hmm. I let that slip, didn’t I?
‘You did,’ I agreed with a wiggle of my eyebrows.
‘I said I was old enough to know better.’
‘So do we have to keep playing this game, or are you just going to tell me how much over forty you are?’
‘I’m fourteen years older than you. Happy?’ I was twenty-seven, so that made him forty-one. I wasn’t far off with my guess of thirty-eight, then.
‘Sure it won’t make you change your mind about me?’ he enquired, his tone dropping and a flicker of concern crossed his brows.
‘No. I’ve told you that before.’
We stood there like that for several seconds, then I groaned as the events of the kitchen flooded my mind again. ‘God, I can’t believe I just did that!’
Oliver eased me away from his body and slowly shook his head. ‘No, neither can I.’ Crossing his arms over his chest, he lowered his head slightly so he was looking at me through his lashes. As I took in his dominant expression, awareness zinged through my body. Woah. Where had this come from?
‘I think perhaps you need a reminder about our bond of trust, hmm?’
Swallowing loudly, I pulled the sheet around me. ‘What… what do you mean?’
‘What do you mean, Sir,’ he corrected me.
My eyes widened, and my mouth went dry as anticipation sizzled in my belly. God, I loved it when he was like this.
‘I told you I wasn’t married, but you still assumed the worst of me, and I asked you not to rush downstairs immediately when you heard Val, but you ignored me. Both of these errors require a correction.’
A correction? He hadn’t used that term with me before, and I frowned. ‘What’s a correction, Sir?’ I asked in a nervous whisper, making sure to use his title this time.
‘A correction is a punishment. It will remind you not to make the same mistake again.’ He had a wicked glint in his eye as he took my hand and led me towards the stairs.
Well, this was unexpected, but undeniably a relief. I’d worried that the situation with Dominic might have affected the Dom/sub bond between Oliver and me, because we hadn’t done a scene since the abduction, and he hadn’t properly assumed that role with me, either. Even earlier, when he’d teased me with the ice, it had been mostly vanilla, but from his body language now, things certainly seemed to be looking up.
As we made our way back downstairs half an hour later, I winced at the remaining sting in my buttocks, then grinned broadly. The moment we had got back to his bedroom, Oliver had produced a flogger from within his wardrobe, and proceeded to demonstrate to me exactly how skilled he was with the toy. My shocked yelps had been smothered by the pillow below my face, and Oliver had somehow managed to make each flick of the leather tabs almost completely silent. It had been a rather pleasurable punishment, really, but when I’d laid there begging for him to make me come Oliver had grinned wickedly and then denied me. So, basically, I’d discovered that I was not a fan of orgasm denial, and Oliver had effectively made his point.
Knowing his aunt and her friends were downstairs had made the whole scene even more erotic, and I couldn’t deny that I rather liked the feeling of naughtiness that surrounded me as we ventured back towards the kitchen, both still aroused.
Just as I was about to push the kitchen door open, Oliver gave my bum a gentle squeeze, causing a shot of pain to flash across my skin, and eliciting an aroused gasp of surprise from my lips.
He grinned, apparently loving me in this unsatisfied state, and jerked his chin towards the kitchen. ‘Just so you know, I wasn’t trying to hide you from Val, I was planning on introducing you to her in the morning over breakfast.’ Suppressing a laugh, he rolled his eyes. ‘I think your entrance trumped any introduction I could have made, though.’
I groaned, happy that he wanted me to meet his aunt, but absolutely mortified at how that meeting had occurred. ‘Come on, let’s go in, she’s going to love you.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘Because I could see how excited she was. Valarie hasn’t seen me with a woman for a very long time, so don’t be surprised if she’s a little over the top with you.’
As we entered the kitchen, I saw that Valarie’s bridge friends had left, thankfully. From the keen smile on her face, and the half-full coffee cups scattered around the kitchen, I suspected she had chucked them out so she could focus on getting the gossip from Oliver and me, but I didn’t say anything.
I was still too embarrassed to initiate conversation, but Valarie brushed it off, and pulled me into a tight hug, clearly very excited to meet me.
‘Let’s move to the lounge for our drinks, shall we?’ Oliver and I followed behind her, choosing to sit in the end of the room where the sofas were clustered together within a sea of dust sheets. The painters had at least left the rooms usable, even if they didn’t look particularly great yet.
Valarie clicked her tongue and looked to Oliver and me. ‘I left the milk jug on the counter. Would one of you grab it while I pour, please?’
Keen to send Sasha and Chloe a text telling them that I had finally solved the mystery of the woman he’d been with at Chloe’s work, I jumped up and went to get the milk.
I rushed out a text message telling the girls about Valarie, and that everything was fine, and also mentioning that his house was fricking incredible. I was just returning from the kitchen when I overheard Valarie’s voice saying my name, so I paused outside the room to listen.
‘Robyn. It’s such a lovely name. So, where did you meet her?’
‘At the club.’ A shiver ran over my skin at his mention of the club, but I quickly contained the images of Dominic that flew to my mind, and pushed them away. Oliver’s reply surprised me, because I wouldn’t have expected his family to be aware of Club Twist, or what went on there. Perhaps he’d just told her it was a bar, or nightclub?
‘Oh.’ Valarie’s voice audibly tightened. ‘I see.’ From her tone, I could only assume she was well aware of what type of club her nephew was part owner of. How weird. It was a sex club, for goodness’ sakes. There was no way I’d tell my family something like that, let alone an aunt who I lived with.
I think my parents would faint if they knew where I now chose to spend my Friday nights, so it was definitely a secret best kept to myself.
Sneaking closer, I looked through the tiny gap in the door, fairly certain that I couldn’t been seen from there.
Huffing out an impatient breath, Oliver shook his head. ‘Don’t look like that, Tía. It’s not like you imagine at all. Besides, Robyn’s a writer. She was in the club on a research visit and I agreed to answer some of her questions. We got to know each other, and things went from there.’
Which was all completely true, although I noticed that he didn’t tell her I was now a fully paid up member, thanks to Sasha’s generosity. There was a pause, then Valarie’s face softened again. ‘She’s very pretty, Oliver.’
Oliver bowed his head for a second, then looked across at his aunt with an uncharacteristic blush on his cheeks. ‘She is. She’s also a perfect match for me.’ A smile broke on his lips which warmed me to my core, and transformed him to his utterly hands
ome best.
There was another pause, and I was just about to re-enter when Oliver sighed heavily. ‘I can see the look you’re giving me. If you have something to say, Tía, just say it.’
A tingle of worry skittered across the hairs on the back of my neck as I craned closer to listen. ‘I … well, I was just going to say that you seem very happy. Don’t let memories of Abi ruin it, will you?’
Abi? That was the ex he had mentioned when we’d spoken about our previous relationships. He’d said it was just lust, not love, but from the way his aunt was talking it was clear that the relationship had been important to him. My stomach did a nervous flip, because the tone of Val’s voice was really strange. Had he loved Abi?
‘Abi was a very long time ago.’ The dismissive coldness to Oliver’s tone when he replied shocked me, and made goose pimples appear on my arms.
‘I know, but …’
‘No buts. This conversation is over.’
The mention of Abi was certainly sparking some serious reactions from Oliver, and I felt decidedly uneasy.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring a downer on your good mood. So, you and Robyn … it’s serious, then?’ His aunt’s tone was lighter now, as if trying to cajole him into a better frame of mind. I was aware of the fact that I had probably been away too long, but there was no way I could burst in without first hearing the answer to that question.
‘I’m introducing her to you, what do you think?’
‘There’s no need for that tone, Oliver.’ Valarie made a dismissive tutting sound with her tongue. ‘I think you look happier than I’ve seen for a very long time.’
‘I am,’ Oliver agreed, his voice sounding warm and raspy again, and making me relax my stiff shoulders. ‘And yes, it’s serious.’
Hearing him tell his aunt it was serious gave me a warm feeling in my belly, and as I joined them in the room I placed the milk jug down, sat beside him again, and immediately picked up his hand and gave it a firm squeeze.
I still had unanswered questions about why Abi was such an intense subject for him, but for now at least, I was content. The mystery of the blonde had been solved, and my questions about Abi could wait.
Chapter Forty-seven
Robyn
‘Hmmm. I could get used to waking up to this view.’
Oliver’s murmured words fluttered into my mind, breaking me from my drowsy state and making me blink lazily.
I was warm, cosy, and wrapped in the scent of Oliver’s aftershave which lingered on the duvet, and the man in question was currently rubbing his nose back and forth over the tip of mine.
I grinned, absorbing the lovely attention with a satisfied sigh. Blinking again, I realised there was one thing wrong with the scene – he wasn’t in the bed with me, but standing beside it. I frowned when I noticed that not only was it still dark outside the curtains, but Oliver was almost fully dressed, too.
He smelled shower fresh, and looked perky and wide awake, which was a far cry from how I felt. Oliver stood back and continued to button up his shirt, but his eyes remained locked on mine.
‘What time is it?’ My voice was groggy, and as I cleared my throat I saw Oliver grinning at me.
‘Five-thirty.’
Five-thirty? ‘What? It’s Saturday! Are you crazy? It’s still the middle of the night!’ Flopping back onto my pillow, I tried to pull the duvet over my head only to have it ripped away from me again as Oliver chuckled loudly.
‘Not so fast, cariño.’
My fists gripped the remaining sliver of the blanket in a desperate attempt to keep my warm cocoon, but Oliver was ruthless, tickling the soles of my feet until I was giggling so hard that I let go and allowed him to haul me into his arms. ‘I have to pop to the office briefly this morning for a video meeting with a client in China. We’re working on their time schedule, hence my early start.’
The feel of his warmth as he gripped me to his strong chest was all it took to get me to stop my wriggling, and I flopped against his crisp shirt with a sigh.
‘You can stay in bed, if you wish, but I’m not sure how long I’ll be, so I was going to give you a lift home to save you battling the trains. And facing a further grilling from Val,’ he added with a grin. ‘It’s your choice.’
Hmm. Staying in bed was tempting, but Oliver had a point; as much as I liked his aunt, I’d only just met her, so I wouldn’t feel comfortable chilling in his house while he wasn’t there. Besides, he was right about the journey from his house to my flat – it took four different line changes on the Underground, and was a bit of a nightmare. Being in his bed alone wouldn’t be nearly as much fun, either, so a lift would be easier, and I was awake now.
After pondering it for a second, I nodded. ‘OK. I’ll take the lift. Thanks.’
Oliver placed a kiss on my nose and nodded. ‘Good. I’ll come to your place as soon I’m done at work.’
‘Let’s grab a quick breakfast first. Here, put this on just in case Val is up and about.’ Seeing how bloody early it was, I highly doubted that she would be, but I accepted his offering of a plain black T-shirt for me, and as I slid it on, he looped a maroon tie around his neck and knotted it with swift perfection.
‘I don’t think I can eat yet. It’s too early,’ I grumbled, thinking longingly about the extra three hours’ sleep I would have been getting if I’d slept at my own place last night. Mind you, I wouldn’t have fallen asleep in Oliver’s arms, so I think it was worth the sacrifice. Just.
‘I also have coffee,’ he offered helpfully as he held a hand out for me to take. ‘Real coffee, from freshly ground beans.’
‘Now you’re talking my language.’ Ignoring his outstretched arm, I jerked my thumb at the en suite. ‘I need to pee, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.’
After I’d done my business, brushed my teeth, and had a quick wash I joined Oliver in the kitchen and found him adding some jam to the top of several slices of toast.
He greeted me with another grin, and nodded towards one of the tall stools at the breakfast bar. ‘Perfect timing.’
Placing down the plate, he didn’t sit on the stool beside me as I’d thought he would, but instead remained standing and gently pushed his way between my legs.
He picked up a slice of toast and held it to my lips, and even though I hadn’t thought I was hungry, the sugary-sweet smell had my mouth salivating in no time. I took a bite, then Oliver did the same, the two of us sharing the slice as he remained firmly planted between my legs.
We were just coming to the end of the second slice, when Oliver’s free hand lowered and rested on my bare thigh. He was still feeding me toast, but as I took another bite, he began to trail his other hand up my leg and under the hem of the T-shirt.
Seeing as he’d dragged me out of bed, I wasn’t wearing any knickers yet, and Oliver’s eyes widened as he discovered this fact. ‘You’re going commando?’
I nodded my reply, and in response Oliver brushed his fingertips across my landing strip then briefly dipped lower to my core, and I couldn’t help but suck in a shocked gasp.
‘Did that hurt? Are you sore from yesterday, or are your bruises still painful?’ he asked, concern flitting over his face as he discarded the toast on the plate and hunkered down so he could look directly in my eyes.
The bruises from Dominic’s whip were still visible as yellowy stripes around my midsection, but had mostly healed now, apart from one where the whip had gone deeper and torn the skin. The scab on that one was itchy as hell.
But today’s pain and sudden intake of breath had nothing to do with them. Today’s pain was a good kind; it was the lingering feeling of where Oliver had been buried deep and hard within me last night, and I couldn’t help but bite my lip as I shook my head. ‘My bruises are fine. And I’m not sore from yesterday’s session, just a bit sensitive,’ I replied with a blush, my core clenching as I remembered his games with the ice cubes, and just how hard he’d taken me against his kitchen wall and again in his bed.
‘L
et’s see if I can make it better.’ He was still gently exploring between my legs with his fingers. Then, before I could even register what he was doing, Oliver crouched down and ran a gentle lick of his tongue up my core.
‘What about Valarie?’ If his aunt walked in now, I’d die of embarrassment.
He dismissed my concerns with a silencing “shush” against my core, and my nerve endings exploded with pleasure. It only took a couple of desire-filled seconds for me to give up trying to reason with him. Instead, I clutched at his shoulder as a delighted gasp tore up my throat. I certainly hadn’t expected this to be part of my breakfast.
Oliver’s tongue massaged over my slightly sore flesh, soothing my opening, teasing my clit, and licking and sucking every single spot in between.
‘Oliver … more … please …’ It was heavenly, and regardless of my tenderness, I wanted more. I lolled back on the kitchen surface, panting, and as he stood back up again I heard the sound of his zipper lowering.
Lifting my head, I watched him palm his erection as he nudged his way back between my thighs again. ‘Let me know if it’s too much,’ he murmured as the broad head of his cock brushed against my needy opening.
It was always too much with Oliver; too much sensation, too many feelings, too much to comprehend, but that was what made it so overwhelmingly good.
The stool was almost the perfect height, but I tilted my hips to help him get the correct angle, and sat myself up again. Nodding his appreciation, Oliver began easing forwards just a little as he started to push inside.
Oliver took his time, giving me each inch in a painstakingly slow manoeuvre that had me clawing at his arms in desperation and trying to speed him up by wrapping my legs around his waist. He was having none of it, though, and simply pushed my legs wider and continued in his unhurried pace until he was buried within me to the hilt.
Instead of starting to thrust, Oliver leaned around me, picked up a piece of toast, and lifted it to my mouth again. I was hot, horny, and filled with his dick and he wanted me to eat? A shocked giggle broke in my throat, and I shook my head. ‘No, thank you. Your cock has me a little too distracted to eat.’